Charisma
by castroglezGeo
Summary: Prepare yourselves for a story that will turn you on. Ice kings, knights and princes all involved in this drama the Figure Skating is. Johnny Weir, Evgeni Plushenko and Stephane Lambiel. Slash/BoysLove.


Prepare yourselves for a story that will turn you on. Ice kings, knights and princes all involved in this drama the Figure Skating is. I apologize for the lousy translation, I usually write better but this time I wrote this on spanish and was pretty lazy to re'write it in english, so I just used an online translator and made some corrections here and there. Still, give it a try and I promise YOU WILL NOT be disappointed.

 **_**

 **The King of Ice**

Charisma. Depending on who you ask the question -whether it is a coach, commentator, judge or skater-, the answer to " _what would be the element that defines whether you win a competition, or not?_ " Can be " _technical elements_ " or " _components_. "If you believe and take any of these answers as an undeniable truth, let me tell you how gracefully naive they are, charisma is what attracts the reflector to you, what anchors all eyes to your skates, to the knives in them That is what makes the spectator hold his breath with each jump, with each sequence of turns, the charisma is the one that fills people with euphoria at the end of your program, or makes it end in tears, completely captivated.

Me? I am Johnny Weir. Olympic athlete twice, twice bronze medalist of the Grand Prix Final, three times champion of the United States, bronze medalist at the World Championship, a superstar and diva of the figure skating.

I was the center of attention in any competition and exhibition that I had attended, with my own and daring choreographies. Skater known worldwide, declared openly homosexual, it was always easy for me to express myself in a unique way and without limitations: jackets, pants or full suits of shiny black leather, flashes of glitter on all sides, fishnets and daring costumes, more fitted than normal.

That and a bit of my brazen attitude, make up the charisma of Johnny Weir. But again I have to have fun with your naivety, because I have lied to you and you've fallen round. No, the lie is not about what you think it is; what I'm trying to say is that, I was not the center of attention _wherever_ I was.

The charisma is definitely the one that will attract the reflectors towards you. But there are different types of charisma, and the truth is that within this medium, there is nothing that compares to the charisma of a king.

Of the King of Ice.

Evgeni Plushenko, eight-time Russian champion, seven-time European champion, three-time world champion, four-time Olympic athlete - gold medalist at the 2006 Turin Olympics - and four times the gold medal in the Grand Prix final. Evgeni is, by excellence, the best skater there has been. Of unmatched charisma.

Plushenko imposes, both on and off the ice rink; however, with his blades on the ice there is nothing that prevents you from observing him until the end of his program. His feet glide over the ice with unparalleled mastery; his arms and hands moving to the beat of the music, in harmony with the rest of his so worked body embodying pure elegance; his silver hair shaking with each pirouette, each change of direction, without losing grace.

And the look ... those eyes of a beautiful clear blue, resembling the ice in which he danced, how can you not lose yourself in them? How not to want to slide into them until you cannot take it anymore? The passion he transmits through each of his programs is immersive, and there is no way to escape the charm of the best skater in history.

Would I know.

Everything happened very fast. Or very slow, it depends on the day you ask me.

One day one is a young American starting to enter the world of ice skating, and the next you went from national to international competitions. My world had become much bigger at that time.

And then I met him. Evgeni Plushenko, the Russian fiery star. It's not like he was just starting his career, he was already a few years behind me with a noticeable difference in experience. In spite of everything, in that 2004 Russian Cup, I managed to settle with the silver medal behind him, which won the gold medal.

There I captured his attention and he, he captured mine. As a _Russophile_ this specimen was the best I could have ever encountered. You see, Russia and its history and culture have always fascinated me, and Evgeni was as Russian as someone could be; I loved it.

It began with a few looks inside the precincts, interviews and press conferences. Just looks, no other gesture than his icy and sharp eyes on me. Even though maybe I was not completely sure what was going through his head when he saw me I could give me an idea, because even if he did not say anything, I could feel his gaze go all over my body, delineating every line marked on my body, especially my legs, feet and backside... Skaters are famous for having the best asses, after all.

I also watched him, of course, only that he was more daring. One would have thought it was the other way around but then, who would not spend the whole time looking at Plushenko? On the other hand, for someone like him to fix his attention on an American boy ... He was playing it.

After the glances came the assents, the gestures and from time to time, the smiles.

After having given a disappointing performance in the Olympics of 2006, I decided to change the coach and Plushenko took a break from competitions. From there things only rose in pitch and our relationship became closer than ever.

In rehearsals, in skating shows and charity shows, we laughed together, we talked about our skating and that of others. When he began to praise me, I could not do more than praise him back, and let out - at last - the admirer I had been holding inside. Let it out really. I kept talking about how captivating he was, how he inspired and generated competitiveness and one only struggled to keep up; I felt a strange need to please him as he was and so far, filling him with compliments was all I could do.

That changed quickly.

His smiles and looks became sensual and sexual, the insinuations were in and out of the ice, until in some dressing rooms he finally approached.

Plushenko is demanding, when he wants something he goes for it and does not accept negatives. He was direct, and seeing almost no resistance from me, his lips and mouth ran through mine, to go and devour my neck and other skin that his hands were responsible for leaving naked. His touch was icy-we were in the locker room of an ice rink of course-but his touch was so hot that this contrast made me shudder: I was completely at his mercy.

He held me in front of the cold wall while he took me, barely considered my body and was not caring about all the noise we could make. On the ice rink and outside of it, it would be done as the King demanded it. I moaned when he asked, I screamed when he snarled and did what he ordered. Plushenko was even complacent but intense, extremely passionate. He took me to the limit in all possible ways and I loved that.

Not only did we practice together, he helped me improve in skating while we had a good time ... and the sex was incredible.

In hotel rooms and dressing rooms, even on the ice rink. The coldness that reigned on the rink made my skin burn with the touch of Evgeni, causing that with each thrust, each time he entered me the temperature increased. The ice only intensified the sensations. We touched, he penetrated me and we came in it, taking over any ice rink we trod together, making it our kingdom and our rooms to intimate.

Whether it was the bed in his room, the benches in the changing rooms or the fence on the skating rink, my Russian supported me to claim my body as his own and to make me scream with pleasure; throwing me to the floor of carpet, tile or ice, turning me on to the point of getting me to implore for more ... and I always asked him to take me to my limits: sink your teeth into my skin, bite me harder, reminding him of how _hard_ I liked it.

But as I was saying at the beginning, the charisma is the most important thing for a figure skater, and I had fallen for the overwhelming charisma of Evgeni Plushenko without having calculated what that would imply and all the damage that would end up causing me.

Luckily, the charisma of Johnny Weir or even that of Evgeni Plushenko were not the only types that existed, and the torment that comes next this other charisma could save me.


End file.
